


Candy Wrappers & Beer Bottles

by CapPeaches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Extremely Underage, FEMINIST GABRIEL, Homophobic Language, I HOPE PAST READERS CAN STILL FIND THIS OMG, Insomniac Castiel, M/M, OH YEAAAHHH, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Content, Slow To Update, Slurs, Small Towns, Teen Castiel, Teen Dean Winchester, Teen Sam Winchester, Underage Drinking, cannibalism mention, i fucking suck at summaries, i mean i guess, naomi is a struggling mom, sleep disorder mention, so i changed it and it sucks eVEN MORE, town i made up woo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapPeaches/pseuds/CapPeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is broken and lost. Dean is broken and hopeless.</p><p>Gabriel is troubled and alone. Sam is insecure and alone. </p><p>Will they fix each other, or break them down even more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries...
> 
> This is only my second story on ao3, and my other story was rushed and not very good, so please be positive! 
> 
> Also, beware of child abuse, bad parenting, underage drinking, and a cute, little underage Sammy throughout this story.
> 
> /update/  
> my laptop has been broken for quite some time and i haven't been able to get it fixed bUT THIS WILL BE UPDATED AT SOME POINT. PINKY PROMISE.

 

The Novak family sat quietly around the table, picking at their mushy peas and roast beef and mashed potatoes. Their father sat at the front end, their mother on the other end, and Michael, Raphael, Zachariah, and Uriel on the left side, with Anna, Gabriel, and finally, little Castiel on the right.

Most of the Novak children were uninterested in their mother’s cooking, all except Michael who only ate to please his mother and become the favorite. He already and always was, so Gabriel thought it was stupid. Occasionally, Gabriel would nudged Castiel and make a gagged noise and stick his finger in his mouth. Castiel exchanged a small laugh and turned back to pushing around his peas.

Gabriel and Anna were the only ones out of Castiel’s eight siblings that were nice to him, most of the others just ignored him. Though Uriel was kind to him, he never really did talk to Castiel or ask how his day was going. Castiel would’ve felt completely unloved if it wasn’t for Gabriel or Anna.

“Michael, after dinner would you please go around town and look for your brother?” Mother asks after taking a long, quiet sip of her water. Michael nods politely and resumes back to his plate.

Lucifer’s empty seat next to Castiel gave the young boy a cold chill. Lucifer was absent for dinner three nights in a row, tonight makes four. Lucifer was beginning to become a junkie, often coming home high as a kite with his girlfriend wrapped around him in an embrace. Father had to kick her out each night and lectured Lucifer for two hours straight. They had threatened to call the police, sending him to Jail (though he was twenty-four and could do drugs if he’d like, but he had to follow his parents’ rules if he lived with them, unable to afford his own place yet) or kick him out. He never listened.

“Children, your brother is being persuaded by the devil to do the things he’s done,” Father says in his rough voice, taking a small bite of roast beef. “Do not be fooled. Do not do what he’s done.”

Castiel shrunk in his seat; he just wanted dinner to be over and go to sleep. “May I be excused?” he says quietly, question directed to Mother, but instead Father answers.

 

“You’ve barely touched your food, Castiel.”

“Oh, let the kid go,” Gabriel butted in, dropping his fork on the table, clanking against the plate making Mother jump. “I mean, Cassie’s obviously not hungry and doesn’t want to sit around in awkward silence. And just look at the  bags under his eyes,” Gabriel garbs Castiel’s chin to gesture toward the dark bags that sagged under his eyes. “He’s tired.”

“Fine. Castiel, you may be excused. Wrap your food with some tin foil and put it in the refrigerator. You will eat that for dinner tomorrow.”  

Gabriel groans in protest and sinks in his chair. Castiel got up, carrying his plate into the kitchen to wrap up. Once he was done, he said goodnight to his siblings, kissed Mother on the cheek, and hesitantly hugged Father. When Castiel reached his room, he stripped himself of his clothes, put on a large grey t-shirt with a simple pair of black boxers and sat on his bed. It wasn’t just his room, with eight siblings he had to share with Uriel. When Castiel’s head hits his pillow, he closed his eyes, trying his best to get even an hour of sleep.

* * *

 

 

The next morning Castiel woke up with the hands of Gabriel shaking his torso saying as happily as he could with a wide grin, “Wake up, little bro.” and a lollipop in his mouth.

 

“What time is it?” Castiel asks, morning voice rough. He blinks lazily as the sun peeks through the blinds of the one window in his shared bedroom. Castiel sits up, pushing aside the covers and running a hand through his dark hair.

 

“What time do you think it is? Seven o’clock, time for school.”

Castiel was tired, he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep last night. Sleep was all he ever wanted, and he never got it. On some occasions he slept a good eight hours, but it usually ranged from three to five hours. Castiel hated his sickness, hated that he was _so awake_ when he was _so tired_ , hated that he could not get peace in his miserable life.

Though, he should be thankful, because his life was nowhere near miserable. He had a roof over his head, warm food served for him everyday, a good education, and two caring siblings. That was enough for him.

Castiel took a shower and got dressed all too quickly, like he always did, and when he was done dressing himself, a plain black shirt with black dress pants and his warm, cozy trench coat. He waited at the table for his siblings, quietly eating his egg whites and sipping his orange juice. Zachariah was the first of his siblings to emerge from the stairs and take his seat at the table without a word to Castiel.

“Good morning, brother,” Castiel said.

Zachariah, not so much startled by Castiel speaking to him, but more surprise, looked up at his younger brother and smiled. “Ah, good morning, Castiel.”

All was silent after. Raphael came down soon after, and then Michael, Anna, Gabriel, and Uriel. They all took their seats and ate in silence. When it reached seven-thirty, Gabriel, Anna, and Castiel grabbed their bags and walked out of their home. Gabriel had recently gotten a car for his birthday―which was three days ago―, and now Gabriel was to provide transportation for Anna and Castiel to get to school.

The car was a simple 73 VW Passat Variant, the color of gold-ish yellow, matching almost identical to Gabriel’s eyes. Anna sat herself in the passenger seat, pulled down the mirror, and began to adjust her make-up. Castiel remembered as a child that he and Anna went through their mother’s expensive make-up. Anna had applied Castiel’s messy make-up, and she put him in Anna’s communion dress, and Castiel was so happy because he thought he was _so_ pretty, thought that he can be a pretty girl just like Anna and his mother can, hopping around the house cheering “I’m a pretty girl! I’m a pretty girl! Look at me, I’m a girl like Anna!”. His father, disgusted by his son wanting to be feminine, beat Castiel with a wooden spoon―two hits to his bare bottom―that night, and Castiel knew to never do such a thing again. But Castiel was only a child then, he did not know any better, and he did not know that his family was homophobic.

Of course, he grew up with a highly-religious family, and for two years lived next-door to a homosexual couple. Castiel can distinctly remember the family going to Sunday morning mass, while Castiel, only six years old, walking along the stone path that led to the sidewalk, clutching his mother’s hand, watched as he saw the two men sitting on their porch.

They both laughed, Castiel did not know why, and Castiel’s innocent eyes saw the two men kiss each other. Castiel’s father saw as his son watched the couple, covered his eyes, and said in a voice loud enough for the couple to hear, “Do not sin like those men do, Castiel. Do not lust after another man. They’ll burn in Hell for their sins.”

The ride to school was quiet. Anna and Castiel had a small conversation about the boys Anna thought were attractive, and that if Castiel knew any, but he didn’t, he had no friends. He kept to himself, and it wasn’t because nobody liked him, it was because he didn’t want any friends.

When Gabriel parked the car in front of the high school, Anna got out first, waving to Gabriel and heading off. Castiel draped his bag over his shoulder and slowly emerged out of the car. “Hey, Castiel!” Gabriel called just before Castiel could get five feet away from the car. He turned around and met his brother’s eyes. Gabriel did not speak, only smiled at Castiel, and wiggled his eyebrows before speeding off.

Castiel turned to walk through the crowds of hormone raging teenagers and to his locker. He placed in his combination and sighed as he flipped open the blue metal door, finding a slip of paper sitting atop his writing textbook. _Faggot_ , it read.

* * *

 

Only one period passed before Castiel was cornered by Dick Roman and his followers, a rude, cocky rich kid, who is the leader of the Leviathans, a dangerous group of violent teenagers selling drugs on the street, robbing homes, and, as rumor has it, ate the meat off of Cole Griffith, the young boy murdered a year ago and found with almost all of his flesh ripped from his body. He was mainly bones when they found the body thrown in a kanal, naked and destroyed.

Dick’s smile was terrifying; Castiel shivered as Dick grabbed him by his trench, and throwing him against the wall. castiel felt like he was in some crappy high school film. “Hey, faggot. Suck any good cocks today?” Dick asked, and one of his followers laughed.

Castiel remained silent. His eyes did not meet Dick’s, and instead stared at Dick’s long fingers as they clung to his trench coat. “I’m not a ‘faggot’. Just leave me alone.” he gritted, attempting to sound manly; but he knew it came out as more of a plea, as if he were begging, in a small voice just a little above a whisper.

Dick licked his lips. “See that’s the reason everyone thinks you’re a fag, kid. You’re… begging me―a male―, _begging_ , Castiel. You’re nothing but a twerpy little faggot.”

“Hey, _dick_ ,” a voice says behind Dick, and Castiel stares with wide blue eyes. There’s a boy standing behind Dick, and he’s _attractive_. He’s got these green eyes that make Castiel’s breath hitch, a galaxy of freckles sprinkle across his face, and his jaw line, his glare, his posture, his bow legs, his clothing, his voice. “Let the kid go.”

“Would you like to make me, Winchester?” Dick asks.

The boy― _Winchester_? Castiel’s heard that name before―stepped closer to Dick, pushing back the two of Dick’s followers, and coming deadly close to his face. Dick holds Castiel against the wall with one hand, now turned to Winchester. Winchester and Castiel’s eyes locked, for a fleeting second, Castiel’s sea-blue eyes meeting the emerald-green one’s. And then Winchester swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing, and looks dead in Dick’s eyes.

“Let him go.” Winchester says through gritted teeth, Dick’s grip on Castiel’s coat loosens the slightest bit. “Or I swear on my mother’s grave you’ll be walking out of here sorry you ever even looked at him.”

 

“Don’t you know who you’re messing with, _boy_?”

“Do you know who _you’re_ messing with?”

Dick sighs in defeat and lets go of Castiel. Castiel just presses himself into the wall more, because Dick’s still very close to him, hasn’t moved yet. After a few seconds of a shared glare between Winchester and Dick, Dick and his followers leave, and Castiel is left alone in the deserted hallway. Winchester steps closer to Castiel with a look of worry on his face, and places his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Thank you,” Castiel says, bending down to pick up his bag and draped to single strap on his shoulder. He heads towards his next period, but Winchester’s hands are still on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, Castiel turns to stare at him. “Name’s Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak.”

“ _Castiel_? Well, that’s a first, ” Dean’s brows furrow but he smiles.

Castiel fiddles with his bag strap as a distraction. He looks at the ground and then back at Dean. “My family is very religious. We’re all named after angels.”

Dean chuckles. Castiel steps forward once more, but again, Dean grabs his shoulder and they look at each other again. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Dean repeats. “Skip school with me.”

Castiel blinks. “Skipping school is against the rules.” And breaking the rules if you were a Novak, meant a three hour lecture and _maybe_ a beating. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I can’t.”

“Oh, come one.” Dean says, now he’s standing in front of Castiel, both hands out as if to prevent Castiel from going anywhere. “Look, I don’t mean to be pushy or anything, but look at you, you look like a doll. Not like that, like you don’t have a mind and feed off of what your parents say. I’ve heard of the Novaks before, and the things I’ve heard weren’t very good. So come, skip school with me, just two hours, you need to live a little.”

Castiel pondered on that for a moment. Was that true? He knew his parents had raised him to be a lifeless doll put under their every command, but was it true that they were talked about around town? Possibly, he thought; Father is a preacher, and Mother was the choir teacher at school, until she quit to become a house-wife. He bit his bottom lip lightly. He should do this: take this chance, see what it’s like to break the rules.

Castiel nods his head, smiling at Dean. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll skip school with you.”

 

Dean grinned, shaking his head as he turned to walk forward. Castiel followed him, though at a much slower pace. Dean practically jogged out of school, was he in a hurry? Perhaps. Castiel sped up as Dean pushed through the school’s front doors. He stopped as he reached the blue door, placing his left hand on the cold glass. He looked behind him and to his sides, then pushed forward.

 

There was a vintage-looking car parked at the curb of the school, blasting music Castiel’s never heard before (more of never been allowed to listen to), and Dean sitting in the drivers seat. He was waiting; for Castiel. The brunette smiled and ran towards the black car, stopping when he reached it. He set his hand on the hood, bending down to speak through the open window.

“This is a very nice car, Dean.” he said, opening the door and sliding in. The leather seats were comfortable as he sank in, sighing.

Dean grinned as if Castiel had just given him all he’s ever wanted. “I know. She’s a beauty, aren’t you, Baby?”

Castiel lifted an eyebrow at the name Deah gave the car. Dean began to drive away from the school, causing Castiel to watch it as the large, old building disappeared behind them. The entire ride was quiet, with nothing but the strange, yet enjoyable music to fill the air. And if it wasn’t for that strange, enjoyable music, it would be awkward, uncomfortable silence between the two boys.

The brunette sighed, earning Dean’s attention. Castiel’s hands shifted in his lap, pushing his thighs apart so that his hands reached the leather seat. Castiel could feel Dean’s gaze on him and looked up, dark blue eyes meeting emerald green eyes. “You okay?” Dean asked Castiel, who smiled.

“I’m fine.”  
  


“Are you sure? You look a little uneasy there,” Dean said, his face coated in worry.

Castiel smiled again, eyes falling to his lap. He was anything but okay; he was basically risking his life right now. He was skipping school, his parents would kill him if they found out! Not literally, but he’d get a good beating and a nice, long punishment if they were to find out.

_They won’t find out_ , Castiel thought to himself _, you just have to get back to school by the end of the day, Castiel, you’ll be fine._

“You cool with coming over to my place?” Dean asks, his face reading worry, like he really cares if Castiel is comfortable, and it almost sounds like flirting. Castiel only wishes he was.

“That’d be wonderful, Dean,” Castiel says with a reassuring smile. His blue eyes fall back into his lap as he squirms in his spot, not knowing how to feel at this moment.

* * *

 

Gabriel eyed his beer bottle, sucking on an orange lollipop, his eyebrows knitted together. He removed the candy from his mouth, replacing it with the bottle of beer. He drank it quickly, swallowing the not-so-good but definitely relaxing drink. Two men to his left looked over to him, chuckling and whispering to each other.

Gabriel knew what they were whispering. Living in a town like Pine Water, it was very rare to be openly gay. In fact, it was _terrible_ if you were even slightly homosexual. Pine Water is one of the most religious towns Gabriel knows of, and he’s stuck in it. For now.

Turning twenty-years-old should give Gabriel a big chance to move into a town where he can go around in high heels and fuck every sixteen-year-old girl’s hot, hairy dad, but it doesn’t. Having never attended college or kept a job for over two months, Gabriel hasn’t had the chance to move, and is now stuck living in his parents house like his older brothers. Really, the only one who should still be living with his parents is Castiel.

So for now, Gabriel will have to suffer through the homophobic residents of Pine Water.

“Hey,” the ginger-haired, crusty-looking man called to Gabriel. “How do you fit three homosexuals on one barstool?”

Gabriel’s lips turned into a thin grin. He popped the candy out of his mouth, turning his entire body to the man. “Why don’t you and your friend come over here and I’ll show you,”

The man’s amused face dropped, turning to red rage, only adding and even larger grin onto Gabriel’s face, his stomach filling up with amusement. The ginger stood, taking a few steps until he was inches from Gabriel’s face. “Listen here, faggot―” Gabriel cut him off with his spit. His saliva, slightly tainted orange from his lollipop, dripped from the man’s eyebrow to his beard, Gabriel smirking all the while. “You little prick!” he shouted, grabbing Gabriel by the rim of his shirt, pulling him closer to his face.

“Whoa there, friend. Let’s not rush it.”

The man’s face, disgusted, pinched and he raised his free arm, punching Gabriel in his jaw. Gabriel fell back, knocking over two stools, hitting his head with a powerful force on the hardwood floor. Gasps erupted in the bar. Gabriel slowly stood, lunging toward the man with a punch, and then another. His chest heaved up and down, panting heavily as he watched the man stumble over. The man behind him, a fat bald guy, sauntered over to Gabriel, cracking his knuckles. Gabriel grinned, rolling his eyes. _What does this guy think he’s in, a movie?_

He punched Gabriel, but Gabriel only fell back onto a bar stool, quickly regaining his strength and kicking the man in his stomach. _Punch. Kick. Punch. Kick. Kick. Punch._

The fight had lasted only a little over five minutes before police arrived, grabbing Gabriel and the two men. Gabriel struggled in the officer’s hold, glaring at the two men in front of him. “What’s the problem here, fellas?” the officer holding Gabriel asked, eyes shifting from Gabriel to the two men.

“This faggot here was feeling up on me.” the ginger growled.

Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together. He turned his head around as much as it could go, wiggling his body in attempt to get out of the officer’s strong grip. “Wait, no, it wasn't―he started it! The bastard insulted me and got in my face!”

“Alright, alright, Novak,” the officer said. holding Gabriel’s hands together behind his back. “You’re going to have to stop all of this fibbing.”

 **  
**Gabriel rolled his eyes, letting out a groan of annoyance as the cold metal of the handcuffs clamped down on his wrists. _Of course, the gay gets arrested_. It’s not like he didn’t see this coming, though; this is what's expected in a town like Pine Water.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stopped the car in front of a blue and white two-story house, with a large, beautiful green tree in the middle of the front lawn. Castiel watched the tree as Dean pulled into the driveway, stopping the car and turning off the music. Castiel looked over to Dean, a bit upset that the music had been turned off.

“What?” Dean questioned, opening his door but remaining in his seat.

“I just liked the song. I wanted to hear the rest.”

“Oh, well, I’ve got the entire album in the house. C’mon.”

The two stepped out of the car in sync. Dean slammed the door shut, while Castiel was careful and gentle, shutting it with only a small _click_ following. Dean looked back and him and laughed, causing Castiel’s eyebrow to quirk up.

Castiel followed Dean up the wooden steps and into the house, his gaze adjusted to the back of Dean’s head. He was nervous; he’s in Dean’s house. Alone.

The brunette could feel his legs quiver, nervousness bubbling up inside him as the front door was closed. His steps became slow, so slow that he stopped walking when he was only a few feet away from the door. Dean walked in front of him, not knowing Castiel had stopped, and disappeared into the next room. Castiel gulped.

He followed Dean, his footsteps soft and quiet. They had entered the kitchen, which led to a living room. Dean opened the refrigerator door. “Hey, you want anything to drink? Beer, juice, water?”

“Water would be fine,” Castiel said quickly. His breath hitched when he heard how small and high-pitched his voice was at the moment.

Dean eyed him, shaking his head, his lips pulling into a wide smile and he let out a small laugh. Did Castiel do something? His breathing became heavy; why was Dean laughing at him? Did he notice how small his voice was? Can he tell he’s nervous?

Castiel could feel himself sweating at all the possibilities. Why is he feeling like _this_?

Dean tossed a water bottle at Castiel. Surprised, Castiel yelped, grabbing the bottle quickly, but of course, not without having it slip out of his grip and onto the floor. His cheeks burned red as Dean walked past him, chuckling. He grabbed the bottle, glaring death into the transparent object, quickly following after Dean.

Castiel entered the living room with Dean, quietly walking to the tan couch and sitting. It was soft, much softer than the sofa at home; the sofa at home was scratchy and hard, and always gave Castiel back and neck pains if he ever sat on it. Dean finishes whatever he was doing and walks to the couch, flopping down lazily, resting his head on the arm of the couch and putting his leg up. With his shoes on.

Castiel would get two hard smacks if he were to ever put his feet on the furniture at home and get it dirty. Dean simply puts his dirty boot on the sofa like it’s a piece of junk.

While Dean slumps into the sofa messily, Castiel keeps the posture he’s been taught to keep; polite. He sits up straight, eyes adjusted to his water bottle, fingers playing with the cap. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been in a situation like this. What does someone do in a situation like this?

Perhaps he should start talking. Yes, a nice conversation would hopefully loosen him up and help him relax. But what will it be about? How does someone start a conversation?

_I shouldn’t have come here_ , Castiel mentally told himself, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. _Here goes nothing…_ “Dean, I―”

“Do you know why Dick and his little followers call you ‘faggot?’ Like, I don’t know, do you―do you _really_ swing that way?” Dean stumbles with his words as he tries to find the right ones. Castiel supposed it was to be a simple question of curiosity; he wasn’t trying to be mean to him… was he?

Even so, Castiel could feel the heat rise up in his cheeks. He looked away from Dean, eyes falling to the floor. “No, of course not! They… they call me that because of my brother, Gabriel. He’s an open homosexual, but… our parents have no idea.” the brunette says it all in a small tone, almost as if he didn’t want Dean to hear him. Because he didn’t. What if Dean kicked Castiel out for having a gay brother? What if he hated him?

Dean stood, and Castiel prepared for the worst. “I’ll just…” he began, but Dean walked over to the same spot he’d been standing at just a few minutes ago. He set his beer of the coffee table, sighing as he opened an old, silver stereo. He removed the silver CD hidden inside, blowing on it, and placed it back in.

He pressed a few buttons, grabbed his beer, and sat back down. Castiel stared at Dean in confusion.

“Should… I leave?” Castiel asked, not wanting to meet Dean’s green eyes, head held down, partly in shame, and partly in an emotion he was unsure of.

“No,” Dean said, his lips quirking into a smile.

“ _Carry on my wayward son,_

__

_There’ll be peace when you are done._

__

_Lay your weary head to rest_

__

_Don’t you cry no more_ ”

“You wanted to hear the rest of that song, right?”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile, laughing a bit as the song continued to flow soothingly through the air. His blue eyes trailed over to Dean, softening as he met Dean’s own green eyes.

“Now, this song,” Dean’s sentence halted as he raised the beer to his lips, taking a few slow gulps, “it’s a classic. And, for me, it’s not just a catchy tune. It means something to me.”

“That’s nice,” Castiel said, closing his eyes for a brief second, drowning in the music. When his eyes opened, he saw that Dean was staring at him as if he were standing in his underwear. “What?”

“Dude?”

“ _What_?” Castiel asked, his voice coming out strained, sounding a little like a whine. He wanted to laugh at himself.

“‘ _That’s nice_ ,’” there was something about the way Dean attempted to sound like Castiel―and failed miserably―that made Castiel grin wider than he swears he ever has before.

“You aren’t very good at imitating people, Dean.” he chuckled, and so did Dean. “What I mean is that it’s nice to connect with a song―to give it meaning in your life, rather than just enjoying the sound of the instruments and voices of the vocalists. It’s nice, very nice.”

Dean stared at Castiel for a long enough time to make the brunette a little uncomfortable. Castiel’s eyes strayed away, landing right back onto his water bottle. He finally opens it and takes a sip.

“You’re weird.” Dean says, and smiles. “I like it.”

Castiel, unsure of how to respond to that, gave a small nod, took a sip of his water, and heaved a deep sigh. He was enjoying himself so far; Dean was nicer than he had anticipated, his nervousness was fading by the minute, and he felt, almost, at _home_.

And he doesn’t mean _home_ as in the home he lives in with his family. He means _home_ as in a place where he feels accepted. He feels accepted at home, for the most part, but not by everyone. Dean’s house just held an aura of _family_ , and _safety_ ―everything a _home_ is.

* * *

 

Castiel found himself in Dean’s room three hours later, on Dean’s bed, with Dean sitting next to him. For the past three hours, the two boys passed the time by listening to music, chatting, and staring at each other.

Dean sat with his fifth beer in his hand, staring at the dark brown bottle. He had offered Castiel a beer about six times already, each of which Castiel had turned down, simply stating “I’m fine, thank you.”

For a while, Castiel had thought Dean had a bit of a… well, _problem_.

Dean was eighteen-years-old, a year older than Castiel. He had told Castiel that he had family problems and “daddy issues” (which he never went deep into context about, simply saying “I’m the screw up of the family, and my dad hates me. Yeah, life’s great.”), and was left to take care of his younger brother. That was all Castiel was told, and he already knew; Dean was screwed-up and broken.

He wanted to fix him. He knew nothing much of Dean, and Dean knew very little of him, but he still wanted to help him―then again, how can you fix something that’s broken when you’re also falling to pieces?

“Do you ever wonder,” Dean said, looking up from his bottle and staring at his white bedroom wall. “if the world hates you? If whatever god is out there just wants to make your day terrible?”

Castiel thought for a moment. He is apart of a family of extremely religious Christians―yet, he, too, had his doubts of there being an Almighty God. “All my life, I’ve been force into believing in a mystery.” Castiel said, staring at Dean as the boy’s gaze remains glued to the wall. “But, in my opinion, if there really is a god watching over us―a god that has made us so that we may live to be a great species―I don’t think they’d pick out one ordinary human and mess with their day for their own cruel amusement.”

Dean closes his eyes and chuckles, falling back on the bed. His took a sip,of his beer, and said, “I was actually looking for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, but okay.”

Castiel didn’t turn back to look at Dean. His blue eyes were set on his hands resting in his lap. Dean was drunk―Castiel was alone with Dean, what would he do if something went wrong? How will he get home (he feared he may have to contact one of his siblings to come pick him up, who would rat him out to his parents and most likely add in a few lies)? What if Dean got hurt? What if something bad happens to Castiel?

_Stop worrying_ , he told himself. Nothing will go wrong if he just thinks positively.

Yes. Think positive thoughts, _of course_!

Suddenly, a loud crashing sound and laughter caused Dean to bolt upright, dropping his beer bottle that was now empty. “The fuck was that?” he murmured angrily, rushing to his window. Castiel followed behind him. The two watched intently as Dick Roman and his gang smashed Dean’s car with pipes and crowbars, laughing as if it were actually a funny thing.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, heading for his door, rushing downstairs. Castiel followed behind. This was bad. This was very, _very_ bad.

 

Castiel followed Dean, but kept a good distance. Dean looked beyond angry; his eyes narrowed and his face burned red, lips curled into an angry snarl. It was beastial; Castiel almost expected Dean to turn into a wolf.

Honestly, Castiel was scared at the moment.

He’d never been in a situation like this. He had always been protected; kept away in the safety of his house, told not to go outside, warned not to make friends with the wrong people―which Castiel took as ‘do not make friends with _anyone_.’ But he wasn’t protected anymore. He was on his own.

Dean stormed outside, causing Dick and the Leviathans to back away from the car―but not in fear, no. They backed away because they were laughing.

“Ah, Dean!” Dick cried out, his smile widening. His eyes roamed behind Dean, landing on Castiel as he stepped outside. “Oh, Dean… is that little Castiel Novak? I didn’t know you’re a faggot, too.”

“Fuck you,” Dean spat.

“Maybe later.” Dick grinned. “This is what you get when you threaten me, Dean Winchester.”

Dean ran at Dick, and immediately Dick and his entire gang ran down the street. They all split up, a few going straight, a few going to the left, and a few going to the right. Dean had lost Dick in the heap of the gang running, and stopped in the middle of the street. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, kicking the ground.

Castiel was at the Impala, walking around car. He observed the damage; all the windows were shattered, the seats ripped, hood caved in and scratched, headlights busted. The glass under his feet cracked with every step he took. He reached the left side of the car and gasped―on the left side, in pink spray paint, read ‘ _FAGGOT_.’

By the time Dean had gotten to the left side of the Impala, his hands were running through his hair, and he was muttering curses. When he saw the spray paint, he sighed. “Damn assholes.” he said.

Castiel’s head hung low, hands placed on the smashed hood of the Impala, as if he was trying to comfort it. This was his fault. Dick did this because Dean was with Castiel; because Castiel was weak, and Dean defended him. This would never have happened if Castiel were strong, if he had the guts to fight back.

“Dean, I’m sorry.” Castiel said, looking up at the green-eyed boy in front of him. Dean no longer looked worried or angry, he just stared up at the sky. “This… this was all my fault. They did this because of me.”

“No,” Dean assured Castiel, slapping a hand on his back and rubbing up and down. “They did this because I threatened Dick Roman, the leader of a cannibalistic gang. Cas, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

The nickname sent a feeling of warmth through Castiel; he’d never been called that―just ‘Castiel’ or ‘Cassie.’ Usually, Castiel hated when people shorten his name (the only person who ever has is Gabriel), but with Dean, he was willing to accept it. _Cas_.

Castiel’s guilty expression never faded. “Cas, really,” Dean said, his hand resting on Castiel’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I can repair it. My uncle owns an auto parts junk yard. Don’t worry so much.”

Castiel sighed. Dean was right; he needs to stop worrying.

Dean gave Castiel’s back a pat, and the two returned inside.

* * *

 

Gabriel shifted stubbornly in his seat, getting _another_ scold from an officer to be still. He was antsy, and they should understand that―no one would be perfectly still if they had just gotten arrested for something he didn’t do.

Okay, yes, he _did_ take part in that fight, but he _did not_ “sexually harass” that ginger man. Why would he even _want_ to do anything sexual to that old fart? The man smelled like a sewer―Gabriel wouldn’t hook up with him even if someone offered him one million dollars in cash.

He tried explaining himself. Oh, did he try. He wouldn’t shut up the entire ride to the station about his innocence and how stupid his arrest was. “You know, you guys only arrested me because you’re homophobic douchebags,” and, “And to think, I wanted to be a cop when I was younger,” also, “I AM INNOCENT, FUCKERS!” and his favorite, “Kids, don’t ever rely on a police officer to save you from two smelly, greasy men―because they’ll just be ten times worse.”

He wasn’t thrown into a cell or shoved into an interrogation room, but only forcefully shoved into a waiting room, where other men, most bigger than him, sat handcuffed to the arm of the chair they sat in. The officer freed Gabriel’s hands from behind his back, the blonde groaned as he got not even five seconds of relief until it was clamped back down onto his right wrists and connected to the arm chair.

The officer turned to walk away, but Gabriel nudged the back of the man’s leg to get within two feet away. “Hey, buddy,” the officer turned, glaring at Gabriel with anger in his eyes, pointing to a shiny name tag pinned onto his uniform. “Okay, sorry, _Officer Tall_ , am I in for a bailable offense or non-bailable offense?” 

“Bailable, as far as we know.” the officer said in a curt tone. “Haven’t talked to any witnesses yet, don’t know if you really did the crime.”

Gabriel sighed, slumping into his chair. Shouldn’t they have asked around the bar how it started _before_ they arrested him? The government sucks big, sour balls, Gabriel thinks.

So for the next thirty minutes, Gabriel sat in his seat, moving around every five minutes, blurting out words like “If I don’t get any chocolate soon, I’ll break these handcuffs.” Officers eyed him like he was some kind of freak. Oh, wait, he was, well, in Pine Water, at least.

There were no clocks hung anywhere on the blue and white walls, leaving Gabriel clueless to what time it was. He knew it must be late; he went to the bar at nine, and had promised himself to not get into any mess and be home by the curfew his parents had set up, eleven p.m.

Gabriel began to bite his bottom lip as he thought about how worried Castiel would be if he doesn’t get home soon. The poor kid would have to suffer through dinner alone, without anyone to make awesome jokes and stand up for him. Castiel would have to fend for himself―and that’s what Gabriel’s afraid of.

Castiel is his little baby brother; it’s his job to protect him, to look out for him, to make him laugh, not anyone else's. He’d been around for Castiel more than anyone in the family had, he didn’t want to let go. Not now. Not ever.

The silence was enough to drive the up-beat adult insane, but when someone important―Gabriel hadn’t had a chance to see the person yet―walked in through the front doors and gave one of the officers a gift basket of something Gabriel would most likely drool over, voices rose from the silent police around him. Everyone must’ve known this person; they all came crowding around the spot where the basket had been set atop the front desk and began crazy conversations.

“Oh, my, how you’ve grown!”

“Lookin’ good there, son!”

“How’s your father, dear? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“So, how’s that brother of yours?”

Gabriel attempted to tune them out by tapping his foot and humming rather loudly. Soon enough, his prayers for silence were answered and the noises faded.

“Thanks,”

“Thank you,”

“That’s mighty kind of you.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Gabriel looked over to some of the people waiting, handcuffed to the awfully uncomfortable chairs, and noticed they were eating something. _Candy_. “They're fucking criminals,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. “how the hell did they get candy and I didn’t?”

When Gabriel’s gaze returned to it’s original position, he saw something. A boy stood in front of him; he was tall, and looked as if he could be Castiel’s age, with long, curly dark brown hair, deep hazel-brown eyes, a healthy tan, and a nice, shiny smile. He held his hand out to Gabriel, and in it, he held a sucker.

“Hi,” he said. “Would you like a candy?”

“I’d love one.” Gabriel said charmingly, taking the sucker from his hands (of course, not without touching his hand, gently dragging his fingers along the kid’s knuckles and palm). The kid was cute―hot, actually. Gabriel couldn’t help but want to spend the rest of however long he would be forced to wait here with the boy.

“Say,” Gabriel licked his lips, ripping the wrapping paper off of the candy. “how’d you get permission to give criminals free candy?”

He blinked. The boy scratched the back of his neck. “I know the sheriff. And, she actually told me _not_ to.”

“Well, I’d better hurry up and eat this, then.”

The boy laughed nervously. Gabriel brought the sucker to his lips, eyes glued on the boy who was watching intently with a warm smile, and licked it. “So what made you want to give candy to criminals?” Gabriel asked.

“Just wanted to,” he said.

“That’s generous.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.”

Gabriel was running out of words to say. He was always an expert at keeping a conversation at flowing, but with this kid, _god_ , he just lost his words. He felt like he was in a really annoying, cliché romance movie where the girl forgets how to speak because the guy is attractive.

“Gabriel Novak.” he held his one free hand out to the boy, giving him a smile.

“Sam Winchester.”

The two shook hands, both sweaty and warm. Gabriel could tell the boy―Sam―was shy, because he blushed and tucked his hand in his pocket. “Well, I gotta go. Um… bye.”

And that was it. Sam Winchester was out of Gabriel’s life.

_Am I getting worked up over an underaged twink?_ Gabriel groaned; oh, the frustration of wanting to fuck a kid was too much to bare. Though, Gabriel found himself imagining he and Sam together, as a couple, smiling, laughing, holding hands, and kissing, instead of fucking the kid mercilessly.

“What am I doing?” Gabriel muttered. “What. Am. I. Doing.”

**  
  
**

* * *

 

“Alright, _alright_!” the officer groaned, shaking Gabriel’s hand off of his forearm. “One phone call.”

“Thanks, officer!” Gabriel said in a cheery voice (really, he wanted to punch the officer in his ugly face), smiling wide. The officer uncuffed Gabriel from the chair and led him down the hall, to the payphone.

“You’ve got two minutes.” the officer scolded him, crossing his arms. “Make it count.”

Gabriel took a deep breath. He dialed his home phone number, closing his eyes. “Pick up, Cassie. Come on… Come on…”

Gabriel waited, tapping an extra quarter on the payphone. Three rings, and someone picked up. But not the person Gabriel was hoping for.

“ _Yes_?” Uriel’s deep voice rang through the speakers.

Gabriel groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Hey, Uriel. It’s me, Gabriel. Um… is Cassie home? Can he get to the phone?”

“ _Castiel hasn’t returned home yet_.”

“Shit,” he muttered, covering the phone. Uriel would snitch on him, tell his parents he uses foul language. Uncovering it, he sighed. “Uriel, I am in a really, really serious situation right now. Would you be willing to help me?”

There was silence on the other end.

“Okay, I can deal with that. I… I got arrested today. I started a fight in a bar. I need someone to bail me out.”

“ _You disobedient fool. You’re turning into Lucifer_.”

“That’s not such a bad thing. Has he come home yet?”

“ _No_.”

“You think you can come bail me out? Please?”

There was a deep chuckle, Gabriel rolled his eyes. “ _You seem to have forgotten that I have no money. None of us do, you fool_.”

“Hey, I’m not the fool! I _do_ the fool _ing_!”

“ _Mother and Father will pick you up. I am sorry Gabriel_.”

Gabriel bit his lip, closing his eyes. This was not good. “Uriel, wait―” Gabriel tried to catch Uriel, but it was too late. Uriel had ended the call. Gabriel groaned, banging his head against the payphone in annoyance. He slammed the phone back into it’s slot.

The officer escorted him back into that uncomfortable chair. Gabriel sat, annoyed, and pissed off. If Castiel had answered the phone, he’d surely get Gabriel out. The kid would probably spend all his allowance on bailing him out, _without_ telling their parents.

Gabriel was worried. It was unusual for Castiel not to be home at such a late hour―and he knew it was late; ten o’clock at night. Castiel has no friends, and he doesn’t enjoy going many places, spending most of his time at home, so why was he not there? Had something happened to Castiel at school?

Thirty minutes passed, and finally, Gabriel’s parents arrived. They didn’t look happy―like he wasn’t expecting that. Father stormed over to him, anger coating his features. “Are you crazy?” his voice was low and quiet, but that was just for show; once they get home, he’d let his true voice out. “Do you want to end up like Lucifer?”

_Maybe_ , Gabriel thought.

Mother’s eyes drooped, saddened; she feared for her son. Gabriel knew that, he knew both his parents were scared their children would turn out like Lucifer had. It was depressing; not his parents’ worry, but the fact that they thought Lucifer was so terrible that it would be an insult to be compared to him. Gabriel loved Lucifer, he was just misunderstood… and a big bag of dicks at some times.

Bailing hadn’t taken very long. He ignored both his parents’ glares and small, quiet lectures they’d whisper to him. He’d thanked every god there is that no one had informed his parents that he had “sexually harassed” the ginger guy, or that he was gay. They had only mentioned that he’d started the fight.

Gabriel had a perfectly good reason for being closeted to his family (except for Castiel and Anna, who he’d told three years ago); because they’d kick him out if they knew. Then he’d have nowhere. He’d have to live on the streets, get a crappy job that he’d be fired from in less than two days. So, he isn’t some pathetic twenty-year-old who’s keeping his sexuality from his family because he’s embarrassed and ashamed.

As Gabriel followed his parents to the exit, he spotted him.

Sam Winchester.

Shit. The kid was still here; he had to get away to keep in touch with him somehow. Gabriel stopped walking, biting his lip as he thought. “Hey,” he called to his parents. “I gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll meet you guys in the car.”

Father gave a curt nod, and both Gabriel’s parents walked out. He ran to the front desk, grabbing a sticky note and scribbling done his cell phone number, adding a smiley face. Gabriel rushed to where Sam stood, his back against the wall, smiling at every officer who walked by.

“Sam!” he cried, running to the boy. Sam looked up at him and smiled.

“Oh, hey. It’s Gabriel, right?”

He actually remembered his name! “Sure is,” Gabriel grinned, handing the paper to Sam. “I really like that candy you gave me. Maybe… you could call me sometime and set me up with some more?” Jesus, he sounded like an idiot.

Sam pulled his hands out of his picket’s, slowly taking the paper and eyeing it. “Um… sure. I guess.”

“Okie-dokie!” Gabriel’s grin widened, his hand finding it’s way to Sam’s shoulder, giving it a pat. Gabriel pondered for a moment. _Wink, or don’t wink?_ He decided on not winking, since the kid would probably flush bright red and freak out. For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even know the kid’s age!

Oh, shit.

_He didn’t know Sam’s age._

__

* * *

 

Castiel watched as Dean went for a seventh beer. He wanted to stop him, but he had no right―this was Dean’s house, and he could do what he pleases. Castiel felt uncomfortable now; in a house alone with a drunk teenager. What could possibly go wrong? Oh, yes. The leader of a deadly gang smashed Dean’s car to bits and vandalized it’s left side.

Castiel still felt guilty about that. They destroyed Dean’s car because Dean threatened Dick Roman, and the reason for threatening Dick Roman was because Castiel was too weak to do it himself.

He thought about giving Dean all of his allowance money to repair it, but even his three hundred dollars would not be enough to fix that heap of glass and metal.

He wanted to fix Dean, he already set a goal on it. But he can’t. He doesn’t have the power to do it.

“Dean,” Castiel said as Dean slammed the bottle on the kitchen countertop. “You really shouldn’t drink so much.”

Dean stared at him like he had just insulted the entire Winchester family. “Oh,” he said, taking a sip. “Where are my manners? I guess I shouldn’t drink with company in the house.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure.”

Dean continued to drink. Castiel figured he could do nothing to stop it. If Castiel would be Dean’s friend… would  it always be like this? Would Dean be drunk everyday? Would they have to skip school to see each other?

He didn’t like Dean this way. He liked Dean when he was sober, when he smiled, when he laughed. This Dean, he did not enjoy.

And what was he supposed to do? Sit around in Dean’s house while the guy drinks until he passes out?  Castiel knew Dean had a younger brother, so he must got to school, at should be getting home soon.

Castiel glanced his watch, and his jaw dropped. It was past ten o’clock already. How had he not seen the time? He needs to get home!

But his house is all the way on the opposite side of town, and Dean’s car was smashed, how would he get home? He could just walk―no, he can’t do that, Dick Roman is out to get him. He’d probably end up like little Cole Griffith if Dick found him walking home alone; thrown in a ditch, naked, with almost all of his skin pulled off, eaten down to the bone. _No one would care, either_ , Castiel thought.

Just then, the front door swung open and in walked a kid. He didn’t seem phased by Castiel, and walked past him, over to Dean. He threw his school bag at him.

“Sam, what the hell?” Dean demanded, looking at the boy like he betrayed him.

“Thanks a lot, Dean. You didn’t come pick me up from school today so I had to ride the bus. And kids were messing with me, so the driver put me off at the police station so Jody could give me a ride.”

“Wow, that sounds terrible, Sammy.” Dean chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes. “And one more thing; a criminal gave me his number.”

Right then, Dean’s smile faded and he looked straight into Sam’s hazel-brown eyes. “How old was this guy?”

“I don’t know. Like… twenty-something?”

“He does realize that you’re _fifteen_ right?”

Castiel stared in bewilderment. This kid was fifteen? He looked his age, he was just tall for it. Probably only a little shorter than Dean. maybe matching the height of Castiel.

“I didn’t tell him. I tried not talking to him, he was a little creepy.”

“I hope you plan on throwing that paper away. then.”

“I will.”

Sam turned to walk up the stairs, stopped, and called to Dean. “Hey, and what happened to the Impala?”

“Dick Roman happened,” Dean said, Castiel noticed how his eyes narrowed at the name.

“Man, Dick is such a _dick_.” Sam groaned, turning, and then turned again. He stared at Castiel, pointing his finger at him.“Who’s that?”

“Cas, meet Sam, my brother,” Dean said. “Sam, meet Cas, my friend.”

“I thought you had no friends.” Sam said. He walked over to Castiel and the two shook hands.  

“Bitch,”

“Jerk.”

Castiel couldn’t keep the smile off his face. This was real brotherhood―this is what a family is like. Looking out for each other, screwing up, and being able to laugh together is what a family is like. Castiel only feels that with Anna and Gabriel, but no one else. It’s enough for him.

Sam stood by Castiel, leaning into his ear. “Has he been drinking?” Sam asked.

Castiel pulled back and saw the worry on Sam’s face. “Yes. I couldn’t get him to stop.”

“That’s okay. His problem, not yours.” Sam whispered. He walked to Dean and gave him a hug. Dean set his beer down, hugging the boy back. “Don’t forget to pick me up tomorrow.” Sam said, nuzzled into Dean’s jacket.

“Well, I won’t be coming with the Impala. But I’ll pick you up.” The two pulled away and Sam retreated upstairs.

“You two have a nice relationship.” Castiel said.

“Yeah, well, he’s all I’ve got. I have to look out for him.”

Castiel smiled. It must be nice to have something like that.

“Can I use your phone?” Castiel asked after a small pause. Dean nodded. He dialed in Gabriel’s number, but it went to voicemail. He sighed and dialed Anna.

“ _Hello_?” Castiel was relieved to hear her sweet voice answer.

“Anna, can you come pick me up from a friends house?”

Anna gasped happily, laughing. “ _Oh, Castiel! You’ve made a friend_?”

“Yes. So, can you?”

“ _Okay. Just give me the address. I’ll be there in a bit_.”

Castiel gave her Dean’s address. Anna ended the phone call, and Castiel gathered his things. He slung his school bag over his shoulder and walked to the front door. Dean followed him, the two sat on the steps of the porch, the cool night air making both get chills.

“So… what’s your family like?” Dean asked Castiel, who looked up at him, then away.

“Distant.” Castiel said.

The two remained silent until Anna pulled up. Castiel was expecting her to be walking, since she did not own a car, but she was driving Gabriel’s 78 Passat Variant. The golden color glimmered in the moonlight.

Castiel stood. He looked to Dean and smiled. “Thank you. For everything today.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean said. He patted Castiel’s shoulder, making the boy sadden, who was longing for a hug. Castiel turned down the steps and hopped into the passenger side. He slammed the door and waved to Dean, who waved back and walked inside.

When Castiel got into the car, he was expecting a cheery Anna asking all sorts of questions about Dean, but her face was straight and sad.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked.

“Gabriel was arrested today. Lucifer is home. It’s a mess.” Anna said.

Castiel felt his heart drop into his stomach. Lucifer was home. Gabriel was in trouble. It was going to be a _great_ family reunion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My five-year-old cousin got a Baby Alive for Christmas, you know, like, the one that eats. She was so happy. She said "I LOVE TO EAT BABIES!" And I've been laughing for three days. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter (isn't Sammy just the cUTEST?!), and there will be more to come.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Anna had pulled into the driveway and parked the car, Castiel felt numb. Lucifer was finally home, and that meant hours of a lecture, but Gabriel was also arrested, and that meant added hours of a lecture. What could Gabriel have possibly done to deserve an arrest? And even worse, a lecture from Father.

He didn’t even want to get out of the car. He absolutely _hated_ Father’s lectures, the way his voice gets lower and deeper, trying to sound more intimidating than he already was. He hated Lucifer’s ice cold stare even more.

Castiel never understood why his older brother did that. Everytime he comes home, if Castiel happens to be awake―which he usually is―he stares at him, as if he’s throwing messages at him through his eyes. He always got the creeps when Lucifer’s icey blue eyes landed on him.

Castiel’s red-haired sister walked in front of him, unlocking the door, opening it slightly. Castiel could see Lucifer sitting at the bottom step of the staircase, his head cupped in shaky hands. Anna turned to her youngest brother, “Let’s try not to get ourselves sucked into the mess, okay?” Anna smiled sweetly at him.

Castiel returned the gesture, smiling warmly up at his sister. “Okay.” he agreed.

The two siblings stepped inside, and immediately Father’s loud, booming voice ran through their ears. Castiel flinched, wanting to cover his ears, but kept his hands at his sides. Mother was standing by the staircase, a few feet away from Lucifer. She seemed to be waiting for Castiel and Anna.

“Castiel,” she started, by the way her voice sounded and the immediate change in her eyes when Anna and Castiel walked in, Castiel knew her words had been rehearsed. Mother stared at him with wide eyes, straightening her poster. “you’re father and I were worried sick. Where on earth were you this evening?” Castiel gulped. He was reluctant to answer her right away, his eyes roaming all over the room. He jumped when his impatient mother shouted at him. “Answer me!”

“He was at a friends—” Anna began to answer, but Mother calmly cut her off.

“I was not asking you, Anna,” she said frustratingly. “I was asking your brother.”

Castiel shifted his weight, gaze set on his shoes and the hardwood floor. “I was at a friend’s, Mother.” he said calmly. “We were studying for a test I have this week.”

Mother’s strong gaze did not stop. She stared at Castiel, stress coating her soft features. “Go and eat, Castiel.” Mother instructed him. “Then you go straight to your room.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Castiel made his way into the kitchen. He set his bookbag on the countertop, moving to the refrigerator, taking out his dinner from yesterday night. He unwrapped the tinfoil and tossed it into the trash can. His face pinched at the cold smell of the food, placing the plate in the microwave for two minutes. He fished out a few ice cubes from the freezer and poured a glass of water for himself. Castiel knew he’d be urinating _a lot_ tonight with all the water he’s had today.

Castiel turned to Anna as she sat atop the counter. She buttoned up her olive-green jacket to cover her revealing shirt. It was enough that their was going to be hours of lectures all night, no one needed there to be even more, especially if it would be about the way Anna dresses.

“Castiel,” Anna cooed, biting her lip and wiggling her eyebrows at the brunette. “I have a feeling you weren’t ‘studying’ at Dean Winchester’s house.”

Castiel almost choked on the water. He spit into the cup, looking at his sister. “You know Dean?”

“Who doesn’t?” Anna gasped, and for a fleeting second, Castiel swears he can see her eyes twinkle. “Dean Winchester is the rebel of the school. Dean Winchester is Mr. Perfect. Dean Winchester is… well, Dean Winchester. He is unlike any boy ever,” she took a deep breath, clutching her hand to her chest. “I bet he tastes like heaven.”

“Anna!”

“Oh, come on!” Anna giggled at her blushing brother. “You didn’t go to Dean Winchester’s house to study. What exactly were you two kiddos doing?”

Castiel turned his back to his sister, staring at the microwave as it counted down the time until his food is ready. “Dean saved me from Dick Roman,” Castiel confesses, now turning to meet the face of Anna. He inched closer to Anna, lowering his head. “Don’t tell Mother or Father this, or any of our siblings… I skipped school with Dean.”

Anna jerked her head back, her lips curling into a huge smile. “Castiel!” she gasped, jumping off of the counter, holding onto Castiel’s shoulders. “You… you broke a rule!” the last sentence was spoken quietly, but with even more enthusiasm and excitement.

“I know.” Castiel grinned; even he was feeling happy now. He’s listened all his life; he’s always been a good boy, always followed the rules and did what he was told. Now, he had skipped school. He felt bad, _really_ bad. But not guilty bad; a _good_ bad.

Anna opened her mouth to say something cheerful, but slowly, her lips sealed back together and her eyes trailed over Castiel’s head. The brunette turned and saw that behind him stood his older brother, Lucifer. He was a little too close to both Anna and Castiel, breaking the personal boundaries of both teens. Anna’s hand crept onto Castiel’s shoulder.

He smelt like smoke and other  things Castiel didn’t even want to think about. He looked worn out and exhausted; heavy bags under his eyes that were worse than Castiel’s, eyelids half-closed as he stared down at Castiel, swollen lips, and a few cuts and scratches on his right cheek.

“What’s this about… breaking a rule?” Lucifer’s words were slurred, but clear enough for Castiel to hear and his heart to drop into his stomach. Lucifer had heard them. How much did he hear?

“Nothing, Lucifer,” Anna said, her cheerful tone now strict-sounding. Castiel wanted to laugh; she gets it from her Father. “This is a conversation between Castiel and I. Stay out of it.”

“Someone’s feisty,” Lucifer grinned, stepping back as he laughed silently. He snarled, holding up his hands as if he were about to claw at something like a cat. He meowed at the two. He laughed again, and Castiel felt the hand on his shoulder tighten.

“Oh, Castiel,” Lucifer addressed Castiel, bringing his hand to curl around the nape of Castiel’s neck, running his fingers through his hair. “You’ve been breaking rules? You know that breaks a seventeen-year streak of being the good little boy Mother and Father have always wanted, right?”

Castiel wanted to yank Lucifer’s finger out of his hair, but remained calm. His eyes strayed away from Lucifer’s icy cold stare, not daring to look up. Anna couldn’t put up with anymore of Lucifer’s drug-induced teasing, slapping Lucifer’s hand out of Castiel’s dark hair.

“For Christ’s sake, Lucifer, get a hold of yourself!” Anna barked, her stare becoming almost as intense as Lucifer’s. “He’s your little brother, don’t touch him like that!”

Lucifer’s hand clenched into a fists. Castiel still hadn’t looked up at him, but he knew instantly that his stare was becoming sharper, colder, and scarier. His fist clenched and his frown was replaced with a smirk “Maybe I should do it to you.”

Lucifer’s hand extended out to grab at Anna’s dark red hair, but before he could brush against it, Anna said in a low, threatening voice. “If you touch me, you won’t have any more hands to inject shit into you anymore.”

Lucifer pulled back then. Not his precious drugs! He’d never want to part with the garbage that is slowly killing him.

The microwave had been beeping, signaling that Castiel’s food was finished. Castiel went to the microwave and removed his plate, grabbing his glass of iced water and a fork. He clutched each item tightly and moved to retreat to the dinner table, but as he walked, he felt his foot catch onto something, and the next thing he knew he was falling to the floor.

Lucifer was snickering menacingly. Castiel stared at the ground as his only dinner for the night spread across the kitchen floor, under the refrigerator, sliding into dusty spaces. His glass of water had fallen to the floor and broken, along with his plate, shattered into many pieces. Glass, food, ice, and water was scattered across the floor in a mess.

Anna stared at Lucifer in anger. “Lucifer, you jerk!” she hissed. How could he do that? Castiel has done nothing to him, and he’s his little brother. Why would he do that?

Castiel had to admit, he’d always thought that Lucifer was mean, but he never thought him to be mean enough to do this. Though, making your brother drop his plate of food is not evil, what’s evil is doing it on purpose and laughing as your brother lays on the floor, struggling to hold his tears back.

Castiel pushed himself off of the floor, getting some help from Anna. She linked her arm with his and assisted him to the dinner table, pulling a chair out for him to sit in. “Oh, Castiel, you’re bleeding.” she reached for a cloth napkin on the table, dabbing at Castiel’s cheek. “Lucifer, he’s cut! Why would you do that?”

“Because I wanted to.” Lucifer said.

“Is the cut bad?” Castiel asked. He took in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes, forcing his tears back.

Anna shook her head, giving Castiel a reassuring smile. “It’s not bad.”

Mother and Father came running into the kitchen within seconds. “What the hell was that noise?” Father questioned loudly. Mother gasped as she came up from behind him, covering her mouth with her hand. Father stared at the mess with a disappointed look.

“Lucifer tripped Castiel.” Anna stated loudly. “Castiel was moving to the table to eat, and he tripped him. Castiel’s cut on his face.”

Father looked up at Lucifer, glaring at his son. “Is that true?”

Lucifer didn’t answer. He stared at Father with an emotionless expression. He couldn’t care less what happened in this house.

A loud smack sounded as Father’s hand met Lucifer’s cheek, giving him a large slap to the face. Lucifer hissed, but that was it. No wise retort. No smug laugh. Nothing.

“Pick it up.” Father demanded.

“Honey, I don’t think―” Mother stared, but her sentence was cut short as Father gave her a cold stare.

“He needs to learn not to destroy our dishes.” Father said.

Castiel closed his eyes in disbelief. Father never mentioned anything about hurting his sibling, nothing about ruining Castiel’s dinner, nothing about causing Castiel to make a fool out of himself, nothing about setting his brother on the brink of tears because he was so embarrassed. Just about breaking dishes. _Oh, the priceless, beautiful antique plates must never be broken, but you're free to hurt your brother whenever you want._

Anna had stopped the blood from oozing from Castiel’s cut. She murmured sweet “ _It’s okay_ ”s  and “ _Don’t worry_ ”s to him. He felt safe with Anna; she was strong, and wise. Sure, she’s playful and cheery and perky at times, but Castiel will always see her as his wise, caring older sister no matter what.

Anna and Castiel had gone upstairs and into Anna’s room, waiting until Lucifer was done with cleaning the mess to return into the kitchen. When the mess was cleared and Lucifer wasn’t in the room, they emerged from Anna’s room and back into the kitchen. Anna made a ham sandwich for Castiel in replacement of his plate of food.

“So,” Anna said, turning to Castiel as she handed him the sandwich. “What were you and Dean Winchester up to today, skipping school?”

“We’re still on that subject?”

“Yes.”

Castiel sighed in defeat. He would never get Anna to stop bugging him unless he told her. “We did nothing,” Castiel said, much to Anna’s disbelief. “We didn’t! We just talked. About nothing. All day.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Anna smiled at Castiel. She almost looked relieved—she actually was. Anna would never let anyone touch a hair on Castiel’s head. So, you could say she was thankful Castiel had done nothing all day with Dean Winchester, rather than participating in the _activities_ Dean enjoys.

“Can I go to bed now?”

“No!” Anna shouted, jabbing her finger at the sandwich Castiel held. “Finish that first!”

And Castiel did. He ate the sandwich up like it was a damn cheeseburger (which Castiel liked very much, but is rarely fed it), taking the entire sandwich within three minutes. Anna stared in bewilderment. She’d never seen Castiel eat so quickly.

But when the older sister saw no trace of sandwich left, she made Castiel drink a cup of water and go upstairs to prepare for bed. Castiel was given a soft kiss to the back of his head, planted softly in his dark hair, as he returned upstairs and into his bedroom.

Uriel was in the room when he opened the door, tucked under the blankets in his bed, with just his head and two arms poking out of his sheets, a book held in his hand, and he seemed to be very interested in it, because he never noticed Castiel, even when the teen began to strip down and change into some comfortable night clothes. Castiel, now wearing a white shirt with baggy pajama-pants (which used to belong to Gabriel, and anyone could tell that they used to belong to him, for they were decorated in lollipops and other various candies), got down on his knees at the side of his bed, clasping his hands together. He usually skips his night prayers, but since Uriel was in the room, he knew he would have to; Uriel would surely get the brunette in trouble for not praying. He silently said the Our Father prayer.

Castiel climbed into bed, muttering an unheard “Goodnight, brother,” to Uriel as he sunk into the warmth of his blankets. The brunette rolled over on his side, meeting the wall. Castiel closed his eyes, praying for one thing he truly wanted at the moment: sleep.

He knew he wouldn’t get any. He was praying to an unknown force. He would never get what he wanted.

****  


* * *

 

Gabriel’s ears rang as he walked out of his parents’ bedroom, making sure to slam the door _extra_ hard, making sure to show his attitude and how fucking pissed he is right now. Three hours of a lecture—three damn hours—was how Gabriel spent his night, the night he was planning on getting totally drunk and possibly laid, so yeah, he was fucking pissed.

The thing he hated the most was how much Lucifer was mentioned in _his_ lecture: “You’re turning into Lucifer”, “Do you want to end up like Lucifer?”, “Lord, Gabriel, you’re going down the wrong path, just like Lucifer”, “Gabriel, if you keep living like this you’ll become the next Lucifer Novak.”

It was terrible how a father could say such bad things about his own son. Sure, Lucifer is a dick most of the time, and he gets himself into situations that will be the death of him, but he’s not evil—he’s just misunderstood. Gabriel has always been close to Lucifer, ever since they were kids, so he understands him more. Lucifer is a corruptive, impulsive, ignorant man, but he's also a caring older brother. Or, at least he _was_.

Gabriel remembers that night so clearly; the first night Lucifer came home high as a kite, so drunk to where he can barely stand, having to lean against two other guys who brought him home. Lucifer was fifteen, too damn young to screw his life up. Gabriel was ten at the time—an innocent bundle of happiness who loved candy and planting whoopee cushions throughout the house—and had seen everything go down from his spot at the top of the staircase. He remembers the terror on Mother’s face, the way the Bible she had been reading dropped to the floor, sending a loud bang noise throughout the house, and brought her hands to cover her mouth, silencing a sob. Father was disgusted; he had shown no sign of remorse, no saddened expression for the terrible state his son was in. He stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, nose wrinkled into a snarl, icy blue eyes Lucifer inherited staring at said boy. Father waited until the two boy’s who brought Lucifer home left to grab Lucifer by his blonde hair, tugging him forward up the steps forcefully. “Disobedient child!” he screamed, ignoring the pained whimpers from Lucifer and wild protests from Mother demanding that he stop. He didn’t. Father threw Lucifer into the his bedroom and locked the door. Mother tried so hard to open the door, screaming and slamming herself against the wood, her make-up smeared, her face with hot tears, her voice cracked as she cried for Father to stop hurting Lucifer.

Gabriel shivered at the memory. It was a painful night for everyone. He was so grateful Castiel―seven years old at the time—had been fast asleep that night. Castiel was always a heavy sleeper; you could blow a car horn in his ear and he wouldn’t budge. For some reason, it’s different now. Castiel hardly sleeps, when Gabriel walks into his bedroom every morning to wake him up, the kid’s already awake, staring blankly at the wall or ceiling.

After that night, Mother had been promising Lucifer that she would leave Father for him, that she would leave to make sure that he was safe. She never did. Mother is bad at keeping promises.

Gabriel quietly slipped into Castiel’s bedroom, closing the door slowly with a small _click_. He creeped over to Castiel’s bed, the boy cozily under the plain white sheets, back facing Gabriel. He looked asleep, but Gabriel knew his brother. “Cassie?” he called quietly, flinching as Uriel’s snoring increased for a moment before dying back down. The boy didn’t flinch. He sat at the edge of the bed, back pressed against Castiel’s sleeping body.

Cassie is a good kid. He doesn’t deserve this boring lifestyle, or this family, or limited rights to his own life. Castiel is the youngest of the Novak’s—the very last child his parents would have. A lot was put on his shoulders. He was expected to be perfect, to live up to his Father’s expectations and Mother’s hopes. He doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re my brother,” Gabriel says in a hushed tone, pressing his hand onto Castiel’s shoulder, sliding to the crease of his neck, rubbing affectionately on Castiel’s skin. “I love you. You’re a good person, Cassie. You deserve better. Father… will never be satisfied. None of his kids satisfy him. He fucking hates Luci, just because he’s different.” he paused, closing his eyes, suking in cold breath. “You’re… different. I’m different. But, you want to know something? There’s nothing wrong with that. Hell, who wants to be like anyone is this fucking family anyway?” Gabriel snickered at himself, expecting an awkward laugh from Castiel, until he remembered the kid was asleep.

“Anyway, you gotta be you, Cassie. Be your own fucking person; don’t take the shit Father gives. You should just leave here, hell, I should leave here. What the hell am I doing here anyway?” The answer was clear, and Gabriel knew it. But just because he has no money and no education doesn’t mean he has to suffer at home under his parents’ unfair rules and brutality. “Lucifer’s a good guy, he’s a good brother. None of us fucking deserve this.”

Gabriel stood abruptly. He had nothing further to say. He’d made his point. Gabriel was thankful that Castiel was asleep; the kid might’ve started crying, protesting that this life is good enough for all of them, pleading for Gabriel not to leave (like he would anyway, he’s just got his car taken away as punishment and still has no money). Little did the amber-eyed Novak know that Castiel was wide awake and listening intently.

As Gabriel stepped out of the hallway, Lucifer stepped into Father’s bedroom. He shared one swift glance with Gabriel before disappearing behind the door. A cold chill ran down his spine as he heard Father begin to speak.

“Tell me, son,” Father demanded, starting off Lucifer’s lecture with a quiet tone, soon it would increase to shouting and screaming, which would lead to Gabriel sticking cotton balls in his ears, the thought of driving a knife through his stomach lingering in his head. “What’d you smoke tonight? What were you thinking while you took a puff? Did you ever stop to think of who’s watching; of your punishment? Do you know that it’s a sin to disobey your parents?”

Gabriel could practically hear the smug smile on Lucifer’s lips. “Not really, Pops.” Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh. Father hated being called anything but ‘Father.’ “But, I will tell you what I was thinking when I took my first puff tonight; having crazy, wild, animalistic sex. I don’t know, I think I’m addicted to sinning.”

Father cleared his throat. Gabriel listened as he heard soft footsteps walk across the carpet. Closing his eyes, Gabriel knew what would happen next. Lucifer grunted, but that was it. Gabriel inched closer towards the door, pressing his ear against the cold wood.

“Now, you listen to me, and you listen good.” Father’s voice became stern and rough and low, hardly above a whisper. “No child of mine will use such foul language in my presence. You’ll be damned to hell for being disobedient. You’ll burn in everlasting fires hotter than the sun. You’ll be torn apart and killed day after day. Is that what you want, Lucifer?”

“It’s what I crave, Father.” Lucifer spat maliciously. The loud smack of skin meeting skin echoed it the room. Gabriel flinched, pulling his ear away from the door, skidding down the hall and to his room before things got worse. He slammed his door shut, sinking to the floor once he was alone.

In the darkness of his room, Gabriel let one single ear slip. He shouldn’t be crying. Why was he crying; was it because of Lucifer’s pain? Father’s stress? Castiel’s suffering? Or perhaps his own?

The amber-eyed (barely) man stood, wiping the single tear away, gaining his control back, dragging himself to his large treasure chest containing mounds of candy. It was kind of pathetic now that he realised it; he didn’t have enough money to pay for his own car but, surely, he had enough money to buy an everlasting stash of candy. He unlatched the plastic lock and pulled out a chocolate candy bar. He ripped the wrapping paper off in a hurry, discarding it on the floor, taking a bite, the chocolate melting into his mouth. After he decided he had gotten a good enough taste, he stripped himself of all his clothes, replacing them with a navy-blue T-shirt with big, bold letters reading ‘WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?’ on the back and a pair of sweatpants. Mother had bought the same shirt for all of the Novaks.

He took one more bite of the candy bar, leaping for his squeaky, yet sturdy bed. He rolled under the covers, coating himself in warmth. He left the candy bar on his nightstand for the night, planning to eat it in the morning and much more. Closing his eyes, he thought of Sam Winchester.

He smiled.

 ****  


* * *

 

 

****  


Sam sat in his bedroom, knees curled to his chest, chin resting on his knee. He stared at the crumpled up sticky note lying in front of his on his bed. He pondered, trying to make a decision.

_Dean said throw it away… But I don’t want to. Why?_

His eyes narrowed in confusion. Why was he so hesitant to throw the paper away? It’s not like he would ever even call the guy—what’s his name, Gabriel? He barely knew him, other than the fact that he’s been arrested and that he likes candy. Also that he’s charming, funny, kind of cute…

_What am I thinking? I don’t like guys!_

Sam wiggled his toes, tapping his foot on the bed. He could the muffled sound of Dean blasting a boom-box and singing along to the annoying 70’s classic terribly from behind his closed door. What would Dean think if he kept it? Would he become skeptic about Sam’s personal life? Would he become too overprotective and hurt Gabriel?

Sam didn’t want to think of all the possibilities. He grabbed the paper, staring at the digits written in messy handwriting, along with a cute smile that made him feel tingly and happy. He ran his finger across the crinkled lines on the paper caused by him stuffing the sticky note in his back pocket without care when it was first handed to him. Now… he somehow cared about it.

He looked around his room cautiously—he knew no one was there, but he had to make sure—before bringing the paper to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. He felt absolutely, one-hundred percent stupid. He was kissing a piece of paper with a stranger’s number on it. How pathetic.

Still, he couldn’t help but do it again. Like the dork he was, Sam crawled out of bed, grabbing a yellow tack, pushing it through the paper and into the small bulletin board hanging on the wall above his headboard, where he hung pictures of he and Dean, his Mom, even one of his dad, and not-so-important papers he never brought up the courage to throw away. He sat back on his feet, inspecting the messy board. The pink sticky note fit perfectly with the rest of the cluttered papers and pictures.

“All you gotta do is… own up the courage to call him.” Sam whispered to himself. “Like I have the courage to do that.” he scoffed.

Sam hopped up, changing into comfortable nightwear of one of Dean’s sweatshirt’s and pajama pants. He crawled back into bed, kissing two of his fingers and pressing them to an old photo of his mom, Mary Winchester. Her curly blonde hair hung in her face, a beautiful smile curling on her lips. In her arms, she held a two-month-old Sam Winchester. She looked exhausted and, to any other person, messy, but Sam accepted her as beautiful no matter what. He wanted to love her despite the fact he never knew her. She died when he was six-months-old in a house fire. Sam was told, by Dean, that the family has been different ever since.

Sam felt it once again tonight; the longing feeling for someone to hold him, and to love him. Sure, Dean loved him and took care of him better than his father ever had, and he also had Bobby, ho was the closest thing he ever had to a father, but he couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t enough. Call him greedy, but he needed more. He needed to know that someone _really_ cared for him.

Curling up into a warm ball, the teen soon fell asleep, wanting to replace his warm blanket with warm arms.

* * *

  
 

The Novak’s morning routine ran by smoothly. No one spoke, too afraid to bring up unwanted conversations, so for Castiel, the morning was peaceful, but also lonely. One thing, though, had been strange about this morning—Michael had woken him up, not Gabriel. He was surprised; Michael had never taken the time to do anything for Castiel, infact, he usually ignored him.

The brunette felt odd about it. Why had Michael woken him up and not Gabriel? Gabriel always wakes him up. He’s so used to seeing his brother’s face in the morning, smiling goofily at him with some kind of candy in his mouth, so he was pretty uncomfortable to see Michael hovering over him and telling him to wake up. Gabriel did not come out of his room once the entire morning, Castiel would purposely walk past Gabriel’s bedroom and press his ear against the door, and hear nothing. Was Gabriel gone?

What was even stranger was that Gabriel would not be driving Castiel and Anna to school today, but Michael would be. The eldest Novak snatched Gabriel’s car keys out of Father’s hand, who was gladly giving them to Michael. Castiel thought for a minute.

Was this Gabriel’s punishment?

It felt more like his own punishment. Having one of his siblings he actually feels comfortable around taken away from him seems like the worst kind of punishment to Castiel—having his loved ones taken away from him.

Castiel’s stomach churned in nervousness when Michael gave him a cold stare once they were seated in the car. His grip on his bag tightened and he prayed for this ride to be over soon.

Anna began adjusting her make-up, glancing back at Castiel through the mirror. Castiel gave her a confused look, hoping she’d catch that he had no idea of what was going on, why _Michael_ , of _all_ people, was driving in Gabriel’s car to drop the two high schoolers off. Anna shook her head, mouthing the words ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Still, Castiel felt weird. He knew Gabriel had been arrested last night—though, he was clueless as to why he was arrested—and he was expecting a punishment be forced on Gabriel, but he never expected the punishment to be quite like this, if this was even part of his punishment. Maybe Michael woke up this morning, determined to act on his _older brother instincts_ , but Castiel highly doubted that.  

The car came to a halt, pulling up to the side of the curb. Michael glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, slicking back his neatly gelled black hair. Castiel scowled, uncomfortable. He didn’t even look at them, tell them to get out, or say goodbye. Anna swung her door open and so did Castiel, the two stepping out in a hurry to get away from their revolting, narcissistic brother. They slammed the doors together, watching as Michael sped off. _If he crashes Gabriel’s car…_

Anna slung her bookbag over her shoulder, adjusting her blouse so that her pale chest is covered more. “Gabriel’s punishment was no car or driving for a whole month. Also, limited interactions with friends. I guess that includes his siblings too.” Anna says with a joking smile, but soon frowns when she sees Castiel’s head drop. “Castiel…”

“I’m fine.” he dismissed it “It’s just...  Keeping Gabriel away from his own siblings? I don’t even see how he’ll be able to live in the house with that kind of punishment.”

“I agree, but it’s Father’s decision, and it’s final.” Anna’s hand rested on Castiel’s shoulder, her thumb rubbing up and down his collarbone. The distant sound of a girl shouting Anna’s name interrupted the moment of comfort, and Anna gave Castiel a smile before running off to be with one of her friends. The brunette sighed, turning on his heel and towards the school.

Hopefully, Dean would be attending school today, Castiel thought as he walked uncomfortably through the crowd of teenagers. After being with Dean, instead of by himself, he realized how much he hated being alone, with no one to turn to, to hope for when things go wrong. He wanted to feel safe and secure, accepted and loved.

Castiel stopped, shaking his head to readjust his thoughts. This was totally normal, right? It’s normal to want to be around someone because they make you feel safe, also all tingly and bubbly and awkward and ansty…

 ****  


* * *

 

 

****  


“Wait, wait. let me get this straight—or, swirly, in this matter.” Charlie couldn’t contain her laughter as Sam sulked in his seat, hiding his red face in his hands.

“I never should have told you anything.” Sam’s sentence was slightly muffled from his hands. He spread two fingers apart to peer at Charlie, who was still trying to hold in her laughter and failing miserably.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Charlie assured him, watching the teacher in the front of the classroom cautiously before she slapped a hand on his shoulder, rubbing up and down. “I, for one, think this side of the fence is a lot more exciting.”

“I’m not…” Sam lost his words, not knowing what to think himself. Charlie’s eyebrows twitched up and she gave him a skeptical look. “I just want to get to know him, you know? I guess I’m curious about how he got arrested, I don’t know.”  
  


“Oh, sure.” her eyes rolled sarcastically, a permanent smile on her lips as she turned to face the front of the classroom, not so much interested in the lesson but more interested in the fact that the new Geography teacher looked like Bilbo Baggins.

Sam’s blush had spread everywhere, his entire body practically flushed bright red. Why had he brought Gabriel up, especially to Charlie? Sam knew he could trust he, she was his best friend, but he also had forgotten that she had a way of _knowing_ things.

The bell rang and everyone spilled into the hallway in a rush to get home. Sam felt the same way, but dreaded what was ahead.

Since the Impala had been almost completely destroyed (both Dean and Sam broke out in a weird happy dance when they’d realised that the engine and the battery were still working), and would need a few days to a week or more for repairs. In the meantime, Dean decided that it would be safer to spend the next few days at Bobby’s, away from Dick and the Leviathans now that Dean had become a personal problem to the gang. And since Bobby lived on the outskirts of town, and Dean was working on the Impala, he’d have to walk home for the next week or two, and that was not something he looked forward to.

As Sam and Charlie exited the school together, Charlie pulled out her cell phone and plugged her earphones in, but before she adjusted them to fit on her head Sam interrupted the action.

“I think Dean would be happy to see you drop by, especially after what happened with the Leviathans. Maybe you could cheer him up with your nerd-talk.” he encouraged, and Charlie blushed.

“Yeah, but I’m meeting up with Dorothy later today, I haven’t seen her in a month, I can’t have anything holding me back.” Sam sighed and so did Charlie, but she pushed aside a strand of floppy brown hair out of Sam’s face and placed her earphones on her head. She pressed lay, and when she spoke again, she was shouting “Tell Dean I love him, bye Sam!” and running off in the opposite direction.

Sam grinned as the red-haired girl ran off, shaking her head in rhythm with the music. He turned and made his way towards the sidewalk, watching his steps as he skidded along the pavement. Thing is, when you don’t look in front of you while walking, and instead peer directly down, you’ll run into someone.

That someone happened to be Castiel, and the two stumbled to the ground. “Shit!” Sam yelled, jumping up quickly to help Castiel off of the ground. “Castiel, hey, I’m sorry about that, wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?”

Castiel shook his head and gave Sam a weak smile. “I’m fine. What about you? Are you hurt?”

Sam suddenly felt a slight stinging sensation on his palm. Unclenching his fist he inspected the small scrape. It barely hurt, but Castiel grabbed his hands and observed it intently. “You should get home and disinfect that.” the blue-eyed brunette told him, letting Sam’s hand fall back to his side.

“Home?” Sam laughed. “I won’t be going back home for a while.”  
  


Castiel’s eyes narrowed, and Sam wanted to laugh because he looked like a confused cat. “Why? Was there a problem at home? Dean?”

“Well, you saw the Impala, right? Dean thinks it’s not safe to stay at the house because Dick knows where we live. We’re staying at our uncle’s place for a while, just until he repair the Impala up. Then he’ll be able to protect the both of us when we go back without having to worry about fixing a car 24/7.”

Castiel nodded. They stared at each other in silence, and Sam got the message.

“Do you… want to come see Dean? I think he’d like company other than his annoying little brother. Especially if it’s you.”

Sam couldn’t quite comprehend the look on Castiel’s face after the word escaped his mouth; his cheeks began to burn red, and Sam found a hint of embarrassment, happiness, and nervousness on Castiel’s face. He nodded and the two started down the sidewalk.

“About Dean.” Castiel started and his blush disappeared from his face. Sam smiled; that was him only minutes ago. “Why wasn’t he at school today.”

“He just likes to skip.” Sam shrugged. “And he’s working on his precious baby.”

“Right… Even so, doesn’t he realize that skipping school will affect his future?”

Sam bit his lip and heaved a heavy sigh. “Dean just doesn't really care about himself anymore. He cares more about me than anything, it’s _really_ depressing…”

“It must be nice to have such a caring sibling. I can relate, Sam.”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYOOOO
> 
> I hope this chapter meets most of your standards. Get ready for some Destiel feels next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I ALSO CHANGED THE DESCRIPTION AND I NOW REALISE THAT THIS ONE IS EVEN WORSE IM S O R R Y 
> 
> ALSO I GOT A NEW LAPTOP SO HELL YEAAAHHHH SORRYFOR LEAVING FOR LIKE 6 MONTHS
> 
> EN-FUCKING-JOY
> 
> I also like BARELY proof-read this so theres probably lots of mistakes

There are certain kinds of slip-ups Sam can deal with. Like Dean forgetting to pick him up one day. But two days, after Dean  _ promised _ he’d be at school to pick Sam up, he’s had enough. Castiel sees it first hand, Sam storming into the junkyard, cutting corners and jumping over pieces of metal until he finds Dean, throwing his schoolbag at him with anger flickering in his hazel-brown eyes. 

“You promised you’d pick me up, Dean!” Sam yelled as Dean emerged from the back seat of the broken Impala. Dean’s face pinched in confusion and his hands shot up in defense when Sam grabbed an oily rag and threw it at him. “I was scared to death of walking home alone! I even dragged  your  friend along.”

Sam’s chest heaved in anger. Castiel stood awkwardly off to the side, watching the two brothers as they had their moment. Dean’s eyes flickered to Castiel, and back to Sam. “Sam, I lost track of time—”

“No,” Sam interrupted, yanking his schoolbag off the ground and throwing it back over his shoulder. “It’s getting worse and worse everyday. Fix yourself, Dean, or you’ll end up like Dad.” Sam spat, stomping away down the dirt road leading to a house. Castiel watched Sam and noticed that his shoulders quivered, hands rubbing his face. He was crying. 

He turned to Dean, stuttering. “Dean, I’m sorry―”

“No, Cas, you didn’t do anything.” Dean walked up to the brunette, resting his dirty hand on Castiel’s shoulder and giving him a tight, reassuring squeeze. “The kid’s right. He deserves so much and I can’t even give him a little.” 

“Dean,” Castiel spoke softly, reaching up to place his hand on Dean’s. “You’re doing everything you can. You mean so much to Sam, everything you do makes him idolize you even further. Don’t ever say such things.” 

Dean blinked. Castiel licked his lips and shifted his feet awkwardly. 

Dean finally broke the silence with a light laugh, patting Castiel’s shoulder. He spun on his heel, bringing his arm to wrap all the way around Castiel. “C’mon, my uncle made dinner. Beer and burgers. You up for it?” 

Castiel shrugged, leaning into Dean’s hold. “That would be nice.”

 

 

* * *

__

Sam threw his schoolbag to the ground once he got into the small room he and Dean shared whenever they spent nights at Bobby’s. He locked the door behind him, leaning on it for a few seconds.  _He never keeps his promise_ ,  Sam thought angrily, biting his lip.  _Just like dad_ . 

Sam slammed his fist on the door, plopping himself at the edge of his bed. He tapped his foot, face buried in his palms. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be away from Dean, from Bobby, from that blue-eyed kid Castiel. He wanted to get away. 

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, Sam quickly dialed a number he had taken to memory, hand shaking as he raised his phone up to his ear. 

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. 

_ “ Archangel Gabriel here, how may I help you _ ?” 

Sam narrowed his eyes. It was that same playful voice he had heard the other day. 

“What the  hell?” Sam laughed hollowly, trying to keep it cool. (It obviously was not cool, he had just called a criminal and his heart was beating so fast he feared Bobby would hear it from downstairs.)

__

_ “ _ _Yeah, you see―my parents named me after the almighty archangel Gabriel. Blah, blah. Now who is this_ ? ” 

“It’s, um… It’s Sam. From the police station?”

“ _ Twinkie! _ ” 

__ “What?”   
  


“ _ Never mind that. What’s up, Sammy-boy _ ? ” 

“Please don’t call me that.”

 

 

Gabriel laughed on the other line, and Sam grinned the tiniest bit. “ _ Okay. Whatever floats your boat, princess. So what’s up? What made you decide to call a vicious criminal like me _ ? ” 

“You don’t look very vicious to me.” Sam stated, rolling his eyes. He fell back on his bed, squishing his phone between his ear and shoulder. “But… I wanted to know if you could… if we could… meet up and, you know, hang out? I need to get away for a while.” 

__

Gabriel sighed. Sam eared movement on the other line. “ _ Well, I’m currently grounded. But who ever listens to their parents? _ _” Sam grinned. “_ _Meet me at the town church. Bring money. We’re gonna have a good time, Sammy_ . ” 

“Okay,” Sam said, a little breathlessly. “and don’t call me that. Only my brother calls me that.” 

__

“ _ You’re a tough one to crack, Sam _ .”  Gabriel chuckled. “ _ See you in fifteen minutes. Hasta la vista _ .” The call ended. Sam took a deep breath, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He took a few minutes to think about what just happened. 

__

_ I’m gonna hang out with a criminal. _

__

_ I’m completely insane .  _

Sam hoisted himself up, sneaking out of the window. He didn’t want Dean to know he was gone. He’d probably freak out and go on a rage, then feel guilty and have a mental break down filled with lots of tears and beer. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam sat on the cement next to a―quite terrifying―statue of the virgin Mary, hands in his pockets as he impatiently waited for Gabriel.

When the man finally showed up, open arms and a wide smile, Sam rolled his eyes, leaning against the statue. “I thought you said fifteen minutes. It’s been twenty-five. What took you so long?” 

Gabriel’s excited smile turned to an offended frown within seconds. “I’m hurt, Sam. Not even a proper greeting.” he clutched his chest, pouting. “Security  is tight in my home. I don’t even h r anymore. Blame my folks, not me.”

Sam rolled his eyes. This guy was stupid.

“Let’s just go.” Sam insisted, standing.

“Alrighty then.” Gabriel grinned. He spun around, holding his arm out suggestively. Sam brushed past him, blushing. Gabriel whimpered a soft “Sammyyyyy.” 

They walked for a few minutes. Silent. The only sounds that could be heard was Gabriel either sucking on a lollipop or humming a song. Apparently, Gabriel’s idea of a “good time” is going to a park. 

“Seriously?” Sam cocked an eyebrow, groaning. 

“What? You too cool for the monkey bars?” Gabriel teased, poking the teenager in his stomach. Sam squealed, jumping back and defensively holding his hands up. 

“Don’t do that, damn it!” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes with a grin. He poked Sam again, this time over and over again, up and down his torso. Sam cackled with laughter, doubling over, eventually falling to the ground, dragging Gabriel down with him. He choked out breathless “Stop it”s and “Quit”s and barely a barely audible “That ti-ti-ti-tickles!”

Gabriel licked his lips, grin growing wider when another loud laugh escaped Sam’s lips. He rolled them over, sitting on top of Sam as his hands trailed up to tickle the nape of the boy’s neck. The laughter died down, and Gabriel was flipped over, pinned to the ground. 

Sam gasped for breath, pressing his forearm into Gabriel’s throat. “I said stop… you asshole.” Sam breathed out, heading falling on Gabriel’s chest as he took in deep breaths. 

“This is awkward.” Gabriel said a few minutes later, after he and Sam’s chest had stopped heaving violently. “And very, _very_ homoerotic.” 

Sam sat up, glaring at Gabriel before stepping off of the older man, brushing the grass off of his clothes. “Never thought I’d be tackled and tickled nearly to death by a criminal. Huh.”

“I’m actually not a criminal.” Gabriel admitted. 

Sam blinked, tilting his head. 

Gabriel shrugged. “Got arrested for being gay. Simple as that.” 

Sam paused. He shifted his feet awkwardly. “Wait, you’re gay?” Gabriel nodded, but frowned when Sam threw his head back and laughed quietly. He opened his mouth to quickly defend himself, but paused when Sam began to speak again, rubbing his eyes with a gentle smile. “Oh, god, Charlie’s gonna love this. She’s gay, too. She’s my best friend. I told her about you giving me your number. She said you’re probably gay.” Sam looked him up and down, smiling. “And she was right.” 

“Does that bother you?” Gabriel asked. He hoped it didn’t. He’d be so upset if this cute little twink turned out to be a homophobic asshole. 

Sam looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “Of course not. Why would it?” he shook his head. “Besides, I’ve had my own…  _ gay  _ thoughts before. Who hasn’t?” the kid suddenly blushed, looking at his feet. 

__

_ God is real _ ,   Gabriel thought with a sigh. 

“Come on, then. I’ll race ya’ to the swings.” 

Sam looked up, a thin smirk on his lips. “You’re on.” he said lowly, sprinting towards the swing set with Gabriel far behind him. 

 

* * *

**  
  
**

After dinner, Dean and Castiel sat outside on the hood of an old truck, drinking juice boxes (Bobby refused to let Dean drink beer as long as he was under his roof, in his junk yard, or anywhere on his property. Dean may or may not have whimpered.) and watching as the sun set behind the thick oak trees surrounding Bobby’s junk yard. 

Castiel never thought he’d meet someone so caring, so accepting, in his entire life. Bobby clearly cared for the Winchester brother, loved them and wanted the best for him. He knows how neglectful their father is and is willing to give everything up for those two. Castiel only wishes he had that. 

Bobby quickly welcomed him to the family with a firm handshake and a warm hug. He asked him lots of nice questions about his life and how he and Dean had met, even though that topic wasn’t necessarily a nice one. 

Castiel had offered to clean the dishes once dinner was over, but Bobby had quickly smacked him upside the head and demanded that he and Dean go do whatever teenagers do, except drink beer, of course. 

That’s how they ended up like this. Dean was too tired, too relaxed with a now full stomach to work on his precious baby. Castiel had suggested watching the sunset. Dean agreed quickly. 

The green-eyed teenager sat up suddenly, crushing his juice box and throwing it to the ground. He hesitated, biting his lip before hopping off of the hood and grabbing the juice box. “Bobby would kill me and piss on my grave if he found me litterin’ here.”

Castiel laughed, still sipping his juice quietly. 

Dean paused just as he was about to hop back on the hood. He shuffled back, pointing to his cheek. “How’d you get that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Castiel blushed, quickly reaching up to feel his face. His fingertips brushed over the cut he had gotten yesterday. He sighed. “My brother tripped me and I got cut. It’s no big deal.” 

“Oh.” Dean sang. “Still hurts?” 

“Stings a little.” he answered, shrugging. 

Dean stepped towards him, placing himself between Castiel’s legs. The brunette leaned back, but Dean reached behind his head and pulled it towards him. He pressed his lips to the cut on his right cheek, lips soft and warm. 

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Eh? Still hurts?” he asked, playing with Castiel’s hairline at the nape of his neck. 

“N-no…” Castiiel stammered, cheeks hot and flushed.  _ Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. What the hell just happened?  _

Dean laughed, hoisting himself back onto the hood. He laid back, hands tucked behind his head. “This one girl―what’s her name? Damn, I can never remember. Anyway, once this girl told me that just a kiss from my lips could cure anything, even cancer.” he chuckled again, shoulders shaking. Castiel laughed, too. “Fuckin’ shit, I guess she was right?” 

“Perhaps.” Castiel agreed, nodding his head. He looked back to the sky. The sun had disappeared behind the trees, the sky in a pink-orange hue. “Thank you, Dean.” 

“Yeah.”  **  
  
  
**

 

* * *

 

Sam sucked on the strawberry lollipop Gabriel gave him a few minutes ago. It was only a small ball on a stick now. He kicked his feet against the ground, sending himself flying back and forth on the swing. He nodded his head, not really listening to the rant about equal pay for women Gabriel was rambling on about, more focused on the trail of ants climbing back into their little hill, bringing food to their queen. 

“-and the fact that women, especially women of color, still aren’t being paid as much as the average white male absolutely blows my fucking mind. Women are people too―are you even listening?” he paused suddenly in both his rant and swinging, staring at Sam staring at the ants. “Fucking ants? Really?” 

Sam shrugged. “For science.” 

“No, uh-uh, get over here and feel my anger.” Gabriel chuckled, balling up a candy wrapper and tossing it at Sam. It bounces right off of his head and landed on the anthill. Sam gasped, jumping off of the swing and grabbing the wrapper, flicking it away. 

“Don’t do that, Gabe.” he hissed, settling back into the swing. “They might’ve mistaken that for food.” 

“I have no sympathy for such pests! I am the mighty god Loki!” Gabriel cackled with fake evil laughter. Sam screamed over the annoying-ass laughter. 

Sam took out his phone once Gabriel was done with being an annoying asshole. He almost fell out of the swing. It was getting late. He needed to get back. Dean would kill him if he found out he’d snuck out and stayed out for so late. 

“Damn, I’ve got to go.” he cursed, grabbing his jacket off the ground and slipping it on himself. 

Gabriel stood. “I’ll walk you back. Where do you live?” 

“Oh, no.” Sam snorted. “No, no, no. My brother would tear you a new asshole just for looking at me. Who knows what he’d do to you if he saw you walking me home?” he warned, already stepping away. “But, I… I had a great time Thanks, Gabe.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, no problem, Sammy.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

Gabriel watched as Sam sprinted, turning down the street. He sighed. He really liked this kid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sam loVES to throw his schoolbag at dean lol
> 
> reviews and kudos would be much appreciated <333

**Author's Note:**

> Notice how my writing style constantly changes from past-tense to present-tense. I suck at keeping one tense, I know. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and the Novak children are lazy, dumb fuckers who have no money or jobs and still live with their parents. Except for Castiel, he's supposed to be there. Couldn't really come up with an excuse for all of their children still living there, so I made them un-educated with no job.
> 
> /update/  
> my laptop has been broken for quite some time and i haven't been able to get it fixed bUT THIS WILL BE UPDATED AT SOME POINT. PINKY PROMISE.


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